


Accountable In The End

by ruric



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Community: fic_promptly, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-18
Updated: 2011-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:08:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22550755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruric/pseuds/ruric
Summary: Written for childe_strife's 2011 crossover prompt: Buffy/Supernatural, Faith Lehane/Dean Winchester, unbelievable and prison
Kudos: 1
Collections: fic_promptly Fills 2011





	Accountable In The End

**Author's Note:**

> Written for childe_strife's 2011 crossover prompt: Buffy/Supernatural, Faith Lehane/Dean Winchester, unbelievable and prison

The doors close behind him with a solid metal clang and it's impossible for him to hold back the shiver that runs down his spine. It doesn't help that the shiver is followed by the copper bright taste of fear in his mouth. He's never felt more naked in his life, cause he had to leave every weapon he's ever carried stashed in the trunk of the car. He hasn't gone _anywhere_ unarmed since he was ten and dad gave him his first knife. 

"First time, sonny?" the middle-aged guard asks, hands frisking him, patting him down, brutally impersonal. 

Dean tries not to let his fingers curl into a fist. "Yeah it is."

"It gets easier," the guard says and Dean thinks _not for me it won't, this is a one-time thing_. But he nods and forces a smile, re-arranging his jacket as the guard steps away.

Then he's through and into the visitor’s room and she's there. Long dark hair gone lifeless and lank, wide dark eyes underscored with bruised shadows and she looks a little thinner and whole hell of a lot paler then when he last saw her.

He slides into the seat opposite, wanting to reach out, to pull her into a hug or at least curl his fingers around hers. But the signs all over the walls say 'No Touching' and the guards are patrolling the room, walking between the tables so it's impossible to ignore the eyes on them.

"What the hell?" it's not the most reassuring of greetings but they've never done subtle or easy.

"Surprise?" she rolls her shoulders into a shrug, lips curling up into the barest of smiles. "Come on, Dean, we both knew it was only a matter of time."

He shakes his head, angry that she can turn even this into some kind of joke. "I'll figure something out," he says and he means it. He doesn't have a clue where to start though, Dad's gone and Sammy's nowhere near being a qualified lawyer yet, even if he would take a call from Dean.

"No you won't," she says and it's un-fucking-believable that she seems to have accepted this.

"You're in _prison_ ," he hisses at her.

"No shit! What gave it away, the fetching clothes," her fingers pluck at the material stretched over her breasts, "the metal on all the windows and doors or the armed guards?"

She’s laughing at him, the way she always has and he wants to grab her hand and run, but there's nowhere to run to. She has a _look_ in her eyes, the one he knows so well which tells him to back off and not ask any more dumbass questions.

"You dad turned up yet?" she asks. "Have you tried calling Sam again?"

She's always been good at deflection and he follows her lead mumbling replies to all her questions even as he's thinking about ways he could try and break her out. Problem is he's coming up blank, there's no way he can get her out of here without help.

The buzzer blares out and he blinks, shocked at having lost track of time so completely. She does reach out then, as she stands up, her fingers brushing the back of his hand. "Don't even think about it," she whispers leaning in close, and he can smell the clean scent of her. "I'm where I'm supposed to be. We're all accountable in the end."

He leans back and looks into her eyes and she looks tired, but he thinks it's also the first time he's ever seen her look at peace.

He walks out and he doesn't look back.


End file.
